


Easy Peasy / Simple as Pie

by Dee_Laundry



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-12
Updated: 2008-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dee_Laundry/pseuds/Dee_Laundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the truth might emerge about House's new relationship to Wilson.  With Wilson.  Whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Easy Peasy

**Author's Note:**

> Set a year after episode 4-16, "Wilson's Heart," deviating from canon at that point.

House had thought, idly, a couple of times over the past few months, about how the truth might emerge about his new relationship to Wilson. With Wilson. Whatever.

A dramatic scene in the lobby provoked by a jealous Cuddy, complete with slaps and hair-pulling, was his favorite. Usually in those cases Wilson would at some point yank Cuddy's collar askew and House'd get a clear view of the girls along with the screeching, scratching, and heaving chests. Good times.

There was also the "getting caught doing it during Clinic duty" scenario, which unfortunately was even less likely than the Cuddy hair-pulling due to Wilson's stupid hang-ups on "ethics," and "patient care," and "not scaring small children; get off me, you freak."

Or it could have been that, one early morning, walking into the hospital together, Wilson would forget to pull out of Judy Homemaker mode and at the lobby desk would plunk a kiss goodbye on House's cheek without even thinking about it. _Bleah._ The sweet coos of "aww" from the nurses would haunt House for the rest of his life.

The _most_ likely occurrence, he'd determined, in the very, very few times he'd ever thought about it, was an overheard conversation. Wilson might be fussy about what they could and couldn't physically do in the hospital, but he was not so dainty over the telecommunications network. Not so dainty at all. House could never help but respond in kind, and the way _certain_ people liked to shadow House at odd times, it'd be no surprise at all to be overheard at some point. It might be a surprise for the _overhearer_ , but it would absolutely and in every way _serve them right_. Teach people to sneak and snoop for info and they somehow got it into their peanut heads that they had the right to do it to you.

Other possibilities -- sudden near-death experience, workplace invasion of angry ex-wife or concerned mother, anonymous email to co-workers from that weird guy at that one bar in Chelsea -- were too far remote to even warrant consideration. If House was considering. Which he wasn't.

The way it actually happened had never once crossed House's mind.

***

"Hey," Kutner said, leaning into House's office, "I was wondering."

"Babies don't really come from under cabbage leaves in the garden," House replied, not bothering to look up from his reading.

"Yeah, stork, got it." Kutner, as always, took lack of response as a welcoming gesture and walked right up to House's desk. "This cousin of mine has a bar mitzvah this weekend."

House hunkered further down. "Matzoh tot."

Kutner's drumming fingers appeared in House's line of sight. "It's _mazel tov_."

Sighing at the most persistently dense minion he'd ever had, who still, _still_ after all this time wouldn't give up the cheer, House sat back in his chair. "Jew best friend and a brain for linguistics: I know."

"Oh," Kutner replied, his mouth forming a rather pouty O. "Anyway, they're throwing a huge party for him, but my Aunt Mahalia always gets too much food, no matter how many people are on the guest list, and Uncle Ike's not about to be outdone by the party Hiram Frenkel threw for _his_ grandson last month so you know the booze'll be flowing, and there's guaranteed to be a ton of stuff left when the party's over."

Agog, House regarded Kutner for a long moment. "I quit listening back at 'anyway.'"

Kutner bounced a little, unfazed. "And I'm Aunt Mahalia's favorite, so she's already said I get all the leftovers. Want to come over Sunday afternoon?"

"Did you guys drug my tea and knock me out again? Because I have no recollection of you and I ever becoming bestest buddies."

"Aw, c'mon," Kutner pleaded, his eyes going puppy-dog-like. Well, even _more_ puppy-dog like. "It's a casual thing, just the Diagnostics team, no big deal. Not even a sit-down dinner. Just some good nosh, top-shelf alcohol, and maybe some friendly competition on my Xbox 360. I've got four controllers."

"No."

Kutner plopped down in the nearest guest chair. "It'll be fun. And like I said, really small, just a couple of couples. Foreman and the woman he's seeing, Taub and his wife, me and my girlfriend, and Thirteen and her girlfriend."

House raised an eyebrow and Kutner grinned. "Yeah, her girlfriend. I've met her. Twenty-two and sexy as hell. Shaves her legs and everything."

"Maybe," House relented.

"Great!" Kutner bounded out of the chair and across the floor, barely even pausing to throw over his shoulder: "We'll see you and Wilson there around three, all right?"

House grunted; Kutner left, skipping off to fancy up his Evites, no doubt; House turned back to his reading.

 _Leave it to Kutner to host a "team party,"_ he thought scornfully a few minutes later. _That kid'd volunteer for any stupid morale committee or pep squad that would have him. And inviting everyone's significant others, too, so we can all get to "bond" outside our normal --_

Wait.

He stopped and blinked. Foreman's woman _du jour_ , Kutner's girlfriend, Thirteen's girlfriend, Taub's wife, and... Wilson. Well.

Maybe Dense Boy wasn't as dense as he seemed. Eh, good.

He'd better not have been kidding about the quality of the alcohol, though.


	2. Simple as Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an Xbox 360 at Kutner's party.

House was distracted from his debate with Foreman by an odd sound. It was strange; it was weird; it was... giggling.

He turned to see Wilson seated in front of Kutner's couch, grinning like a fool, his hands wrapped around an Xbox controller, and around Wilson's hands were the dainty feminine fingers of Taub's wife. She was _touching Wilson_.

Oh hell no.

As House approached she was saying, "Like this, do it like this," tugging at Wilson's hands and laughing, and Wilson was smiling at her, teasing and happy, and oh _hell **no**_.

House spared only the briefest glance at the TV before descending on the pair of them. "Flirting with a woman while playing with rainbow-colored stuffed animals. Could you be any more bisexual?"

"I don't even know what that means!" Wilson protested.

"It means girly time is over," House replied as he grabbed the disc out of the gaming unit and slammed in another. "Time to play a _man's_ game."

Wilson smiled apologetically at Madame Harlot, who finally took the cue and took off, and then peered at the screen as the opening shots of colliding cars appeared. "This isn't Grand Theft Auto, is it? You know I hate the violence in that game."

"Quit reminding me how wimpy you are," House groused as he picked up the second controller and settled next to Wilson. "This is Burnout Revenge, no people at all. Just mechanical mayhem and property damage. Happy?"

"Like a pig in mud," Wilson replied, raising his controller and tilting his head onto House's shoulder.


End file.
